


Not What It Seems

by randi2204



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: 2K Round-up Challenge, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randi2204/pseuds/randi2204
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She told herself she wouldn't keep watch out the window...</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not What It Seems

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** The characters herein belong to MGM, Mirisch and Trilogy.

She had told herself that she wouldn’t keep watch out the window, because night had fallen and she couldn’t have seen anything anyway, but that didn’t stop her from dragging one of the kitchen chairs over to the front room window anyway.  When she saw the faint light bobbing up the track that led to town, Sarah almost sobbed aloud.

 

_Finally,_ she thought, and relief sapped her strength, so that when she stood, her knees threatened to buckle under her.   _Not now,_ she told herself, and forced herself steady.  With a calm she didn’t really feel, she went into the little room Chris had built for Adam when they thought they were going to need the cradle again.

 

“Adam,” she called softly and ran a hand over his tousled hair to wake him.

 

He blinked sleepily up at her.  “Mama?”

 

“Get up and get dressed, me boyo,” she said, smiling.  “It’s time.”

 

He yawned as he crawled out of bed, but didn’t complain as she helped him out of his nightshirt and into his clothes. When she finished buttoning his shoes, she cupped the side of his face, so proud of him that she felt her heart would burst.  “Good,” she whispered.  “Now, come with Mama.”

 

She led him out the kitchen door, opposite from the track to town, and grabbed the valise in her free hand.  It was heavy, but she and Adam still managed to run toward the stand of trees by the stream.  They hunkered down there in the shadows, and she pulled her son into her lap, hugging him tightly.

 

She smelled the smoke before she saw the fire, but within moments, the house was ablaze, flames leaping high in the night as they consumed the dry timber.  Carefully, she shuffled herself and Adam further into the shadows.  _Wouldn’t do to be noticed now,_ she thought, a little giddy, and closed her eyes against the brightness of the fire.

 

Two gunshots split the night, and they both flinched.  “Mama,” Adam whimpered, his voice high-pitched with fear.  “What...”

 

“Hush now,” Sarah murmured into his hair, and she rocked him gently back and forth.  “We’re safe.”

 

It didn’t seem long at all until the house was a burnt-out husk, nothing but a few standing beams still smoldering.  She had coaxed Adam into lying down with his head on her lap, running her fingers soothingly through his hair, and he was asleep once more, covered with her coat.

 

She almost didn’t hear the rider approaching; the grass was lush here by the stream and muffled the sound of hooves against the ground.  It was the faint jingle of tack that warned her.  She tensed, flipped open the valise to feel for the gun she had put right on top.

 

“Miz Larabee?”

 

Sarah let out a soft breath and carefully shifted Adam so his head was pillowed on the valise instead.  The gun she slipped in her skirt pocket as she stood.  She knew the voice, but it didn’t pay to be careless… not now.

 

But when she stepped out of the shadows of the trees, she discovered the man on the big grey was the one she’d met in town, and let her hand fall away from the pocket.  “Mister Fowler,” she replied evenly.

 

Fowler glanced over his shoulder toward the wreck of the house, then back at her.  “I believe that this is what we agreed on.” He leaned forward, resting one arm on his knee. 

 

Sarah nodded.  “Aye, it is.”  She fished a small pouch from her pocket, nearly all the money she’d been able to scrape together from pinching pennies and selling what little jewelry she had, and handed it to Fowler.

 

Straightening, Fowler tucked the pouch inside his jacket and pulled out a cigarillo.  “Seems an awful lot of effort to go just to get away from your man,” he commented, rolling it between his fingers.

 

“And I believe that’s my business and none of your own,” she shot back, glaring.

 

Fowler popped the cigarillo in his mouth and grinned at her around it.  “Indeed it is,” he said.  “You’ve got a lot of determination, Miz Larabee.  I find myself hoping you succeed in whatever you do.”

 

She softened a little, nodded.  “Thank you, Mister Fowler.”

 

He touched the brim of his hat with his left hand and then set off, his horse ghostly in the moonlight.

 

For a moment, she looked at the ruins of the house she’d kept, where she’d borne Adam and waited for Chris to come home, where she’d lost child after child and finally her faith – in Chris, in their marriage, that they could build a life.  _Da was right all along,_ she thought.  Then she turned away and woke Adam again.  “Come on, boyo,” she murmured, shaking his shoulder gently.  “Just a bit longer and then y’can sleep, I promise.”

 

“Yes, Mama,” Adam managed around a yawn.  He stumbled sleepily after her as she made her way through the little grove to the stream, where she’d picketed a horse after supper.  She helped Adam onto the horse’s back and settled into the saddle behind him.  “Hold on to the horn,” she said, and obediently he wrapped his hands around it.

 

“Just like Unca Buck,” he said, and leaned back against her, heavy for his small size.

 

“Yes,” she replied, trying to keep the tightness out of her voice.  “Just like Uncle Buck said.”

 

“Are we gonna meet Pa somewhere?” he asked, and she could tell that he was already falling asleep again.

 

“No, love,” she answered quietly.  “We’re not goin’ to see your Pa.”  _Not if I can help it,_ she thought, and let herself look forward to a new life, a better one, more like what her own Da had wanted for her.  They could have that life, she and Adam… but not with Chris.  The only way they could have that life was if Chris thought they were dead.

 

Adam snored faintly, and Sarah smiled, serene as the Madonna as she pointed the horse west.

 

She didn’t look back.

 

***

September 22, 2013


End file.
